Down to Earth
by Becoming Lacey
Summary: He teased her about being his potential date. Chapter 2: How I Met Fuji Syuusuke -FujiOC-
1. The Irony of Attraction

_Down to Earth_

Chapter One: The Irony of Attraction

...

"It's a date, okay?"

"I'll pretend I didn't hear you."

"But you already agreed to see me tonight."

"_Stop_, already." Riku slammed her palms on the desk. Fuji felt it shake under his elbows; his smile grew wider. Whenever he did his sadistic smile, she was tempted to throw the rule book out the window and sock him. Or even better yet, throw _him _out the window. "Lose the smile, Fuji."

"Whenever you lose the frown," he said. He wasn't hurt by her words.

"We can play this game all day." Thankfully, just as she said this, the teacher walked in and lunch was officially over. Riku watched as the brunette went back to his own seat and sat down. But not even three minutes into the lesson, a classmate passed a note to Riku. Opening it, she found Fuji's handwriting:

_You said it yourself that we can play this game all day, so you'll be seeing me tonight at six._

_Now pay attention to the teacher._

She looked at Fuji, horrified, but he was facing the chalkboard. She couldn't yell "no" in the middle of class, and the trashcan was at the back—nowhere near his view. So she tore it up into pieces and hoped that he heard.

It was going to be a long day.

...

**5:40 P.M.**

The Nakamuras' apartment was located in the suburbs of Tokyo; her parents were currently at the city for a 3-day business conference, which was good in this case. She had chosen to wear her uniform for his arrival, because (she figured) it showed how little she cared. She was just about to lock the doors when the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hey, is he there yet?" It was her friend Kumiko.

"No, but it's almost six," Riku said. She clenched the phone with her shoulder and closed the window blinds.

"Well? Are you _groomed?_" Kumiko asked girlishly, grinning over the phone.

"Don't get excited, Kumiko. I didn't want this to happen in the first place."

"So why didn't you just write a note saying no?"

"People _already _think there's something between us!" she hollered, amazed at her friend's naiveté. "I don't want to be seen passing notes with him, exchanging hellos with him, or even fighting with him."

"But you do realize that like, every girl in our school wants to date him?" Kumiko said. She added after a little pause, "Even me, I guess. But I think he's more your type."

"I think an ex-convict is more my type."

"Ha!" Kumiko laughed sarcastically. "Come on, embrace it. He's already coming over so you can't escape."

"No escape..." she echoed ominously.

They hung up after a few more minutes, but the remaining time passed very slowly. Riku sat motionlessly as if she was part of the furniture. She didn't even feel like turning the TV on. The clock said it was 6:08 now, but there was still no sign of Fuji.

Riku finally decided to eat some dinner. By "dinner," she ate salt and vinegar chips with bottled water (adding just a splash of strawberry wine—her father brought all kinds of alcohol into the house, especially strawberry wines). She ate over the counter while staring at the blank TV. When he didn't show up at 6:20, she washed the dishes. There was still no sign of him.

Half an hour and twenty dishes later, it was already 6:50. Riku moved on to vacuuming the carpet. She turned the volume up on the TV and vacuumed while watching a game show. She had the sudden urge to clean, to work the energy off.

Damn him. Where on earth is he? Was he at school, attending some last-minute tennis match?

_A tennis match... _As much as she didn't like him, she had to admit that there was something amazing about him. When he played, it was as if he could defy gravity. The ball looked like it was being moved by a wire. And the way his shirt and bangs flew up in midair...

She snapped back to the whirring noise of the vacuum cleaner. Even if it was a slip of her mind, she actually thought he was _attractive _for a moment_. _

This had to be the weirdest night ever: he had stood her up and somehow managed to make her think about all of his positive qualities. At 7:01 sharp, she fell into a deep sleep caused by exhaustion.

* * *

Fuji looked surprised to see her outside the clubroom the next morning.

"Can I have a word?" she said, looking around to see if anyone was looking at them.

"No one's here," he reassured.

"If you weren't gonna..." she shrugged, "y'know—come over, then why?"

He removed the towel that was draped over his neck and held it in his hands. "Riku. I was kidding. The note was something I did to..." He smiled gently. "...annoy you."

"Well, why couldn't you have told me? This is gonna come as a shock for you, but I actually waited _all night_." And fell asleep thinking of you, she wanted to add.

His eyes fluttered open as soon as she said this. Noticing his reaction, Riku quickly said, "Don't get me wrong. I wasn't looking forward to you coming over."

"But you waited anyway." He was evidently impressed.

"Yeah, but I wasn't—"

"That doesn't matter," he said. "The point is that you actually waited for me."

_Holy crap, _Riku thought desperately, her eyes widening with every word he said. The confrontation where she was supposed to guilt him was coming to a dangerous U-turn. She said hurriedly, "Alrighty, then. As long as we're clear. I have to go now."

He took the towel and draped it over _her_ neck, making her stop in her tracks—similar to the way a dog stops when its leash is tugged.

"Hey," she barked angrily. She tried pulling it over her head. "Quit it." Maneuvering the towel, Fuji reeled her backwards; when she was close enough, he immediately dropped the towel and tightened his arms across her shoulders.

Before she knew what was going on, he released her.

"Hey...?" Riku said, unable to think of anything else that sounded appropriate. She bent over to pick the towel off the floor and handed it to him.

There was something different about that eternal smile this time. It was warmer, kinder. "I'm going to make it up to you."

"No, it's fine."

Just then, they heard the school bell in the distance. "I'd better go. You should hurry up, too." She turned around to go, this time successfully. Echizen Ryoma, a freshman at Seigaku, was walking to the clubroom when Riku passed him. He stared at her retreating back before catching sight of Fuji Syuusuke.

They greeted each other. "That girl looked red. Was she one of your fan girls?" Echizen asked.

"No." Fuji smiled, considering the question. "Thankfully, no."

* * *

A/N: So, was this uninteresting (I swear my feelings won't get hurt) or mildly good? Because he was around her all the time, when Fuji didn't show up it made her realize how she may have taken him for granted. This was originally going to be a one-shot, but I love writing so I don't want to stop here. Oh, and the "Fishing Towel" was something my ex-boyfriend did, except he used his sweatshirt.


	2. How I Met Fuji Syuusuke

**Down to Earth**

_How I Met Fuji Syuusuke_

* * *

I first heard about him from my best friend Kumiko. "He has honey brown hair, delicate features, and a personality that can set you on _fire_," she gushed over the phone. This conversation happened a year ago, when she still had a huge crush on him. "Plus, he has lean muscles, a small waist...like a soccer player," she said.

"Really?" I asked doubtfully. Surely, such a perfect guy can't exist?

"If only you went to my school," she sighed. "The two of us versus the entire male population of Seigaku? Now that would be awesome." Kumiko and I attended the same middle school until she suddenly transferred to Seishun Gakuen. I despised that school. (That is, until I became one of their students.)

...

Now, here is how I _actually_ met Fuji: at the movies.

Kumiko and I were standing in the theater, trying to figure out whether we should buy two packs of candy or one pack so we could share. All of a sudden, she became silent and I looked up to see who she was staring at—a bunch of boys, all surprisingly attractive in their own way. One of the guys was wearing a jersey with SEIGAKU on the back. They were standing in the ticket line, drawing the interest of many other girls in the room.

"Are they...?" I asked, looking at Kumiko.

"Yeah, they're from my school," she said in a strangely warped voice. "Oh, my God. They're coming this way."

"What's with you?" I giggled. Kumiko was the assertive type, not the shy type.

Sure enough, the group of guys came to our direction. I stopped giggling. "Kinoshita Kumiko," yelled the guy in the jersey. "Oi!"

"Momoshiro-kun," she yelled back in an adorable, girlish tone that I'd never even heard before.

"It really is Kumiko-chan!" a redhead, whose hair probably came out of a box, shouted. "What are you doing here, nya?"

"I'm surprised to see _you _guys here. I thought you had practice, like, every night."

"Hoi hoi, we came to celebrate our recent victory," he grinned. Behind him stood four or five other boys, all of whom expertly avoided my gaze. What were they, a _cult_?...It's normal to go to the movies with 3 or 4 friends, but 8 or 9 was a bit much. And what victory is he talking about? I stared at them for clues. They were chatting with one another, and a short boy wearing a baseball cap looked particularly bored. An older-looking guy with glasses kept looking at his watch and folding his arms. I got the feeling he had more important things to do. "Who's this?" the redhead asked, finally looking at me.

"Guys, this is my friend Nakamura Riku," she introduced. I flashed the cutest smile I could manage. "She goes to Mimura Gakuen."

The shorty seemed more intrigued by the lighting above our heads.

"Mimura, huh?" smirked Momoshiro. "They have a strong basketball team, but their tennis club is..."

"Did we come all the way here to talk about _more_tennis?" smiled a brunette. "We should hurry if we don't want to miss the beginning." Kumiko asked what movie they were seeing, to which they replied the name of a horror movie where a guy goes insane and starts killing men over the age of 25. (In sharp contrast, we had come to see a romantic comedy, both of us armed with waterproof eyeliner.) In a sweeping lie Kumiko exclaimed, "Oh, my gosh! Us, too!"

"Come sit with us," said the redhead, at the same time where I blurted, "But—"

Kumiko interjected me: "Actually, we were just going to get some candy and stuff. We'll be right back."

As soon as the boys were gone, Kumiko bolted for the ticket booth, ignoring the line. She said to the ticket girl, "This is an emergency. Get me two tickets _now_, please." After receiving our brand-new tickets, we fixed our outfits in the ladies' room; Kumiko looked stunning in a white cotton mini-dress with perfectly dyed hair, while my layered hair chose this particular night to grow into a shaggy mane.

After the inspection, we entered the dark theater acting innocent. If anyone noticed that we didn't have any candy, they didn't say a word. Kumiko seated herself next to Redhead (whose name, as I recalled later, was Eiji). The slender brunette smiled at me, which was more or less an invitation to sit beside him. So I did. He was wearing a fitting white shirt with dark jeans that accentuated his nonexistent hips. I crossed and uncrossed my legs, wondering if I should keep them together since I was wearing a miniskirt.

Right when the movie started, Kumiko kicked my seat. I whipped around, shooting her a "What are you doing?" look. She pointed to the brunette, then mouthed some words. Slowly, I understood—this was the guy whose personality could "set you on fire," alias Fuji Syuusuke.

"Ah," he said, making me jump. "That grip he's got on the candlestick...it's a very smart stance." On the screen, a man was inching in the dark, holding a large candlestick, about to murder his unknowing father. With one swift motion, the weapon went crashing down on his skull; everybody screamed. Fuji was smiling.

Eerie music played in the background.

"Uh, smart stance?" I asked after the screams died down, to be polite.

"In tennis, we use certain body postures," he explained, at which point I blankly asked: "But I thought you played soccer?"

"Soccer?" He looked at me. "No, just tennis. Why do you think that I...?"

He was smiling, I could tell. "Oops, never mind," I said, embarrassed that I'd been gossiping about him. To recover my pride, I asked a series of questions about tennis throughout the movie. There would be a scene where the serial killer is about to strike the next victim, and I would ask, "So why is ping-pong called table tennis?" Eventually both of us went back to watching the film.

The next 98 minutes was a nightmare. Fuji never screamed once, although I think—I _think_—I saw him shudder slightly, during the part where the serial killer shoved his victim inside the clothing dryer. (**Or**, more likely, he shuddered because I burst out screaming in his ear.) Near the end of the movie, when the previews started and it wasn't so scary anymore, I stretched in my seat and yawned; only to find out that when I opened my eyes, the lights had come back on. Fuji was staring at my ugly yawning face. "That was a great movie, don't you think?"

"Er, yeah," I said, immediately closing my mouth. It was hard gathering my composure after that. We all filed out the exits and stood in the freezing parking lot. It was around 9:30 PM already. By then I'd overheard enough conversations to know that they were celebrating a _tennis tournament, _all of them were _tennis regulars, _and a better description for Fuji was that he had a _tennis player body. _

"We should do this again sometime," Eiji was saying. "And of course Riku-chan has to come, too!"

"The more the merrier," I agreed, trying to sound delightful to please the weird boy who barely knew me and yet called me Riku-chan. Fuji came up behind me and said, "It was really nice meeting you," probably meaning the opposite.

"Likewise," I said.

"Aren't they amazing?" Kumiko asked me when they all left, taking out her cell phone to call her parents for a ride. Seeing the phone, I suddenly felt tired—incredibly tired—and wanted my cozy bed and down comforter. "I tried telling you about Fuji earlier, but you were so _slow_."

"Soccer," I mumbled.

"What?"

"I asked if he played soccer and he said no." At this, Kumiko threw her head back and hooted with laughter. It was a good thing I was with her because she might've pulled a muscle.

...

The second time I met him was a little more fortunate; it was five months after the yawning incident, and I was trying to get a ride on the Tokyo subway. Emphasize the word "trying_._"

I inserted my ticket into the turnstile, pushing the bar. Nothing. I banged it with my hips over and over again, cursing. "I think your ticket expired," said a voice behind me. Standing there on the subway platform, staring at my nearly-bruised hips, was Mr. Tennis Champ himself. "Oh, hey!" I exclaimed, halting my hips. "It's you!"

He looked somewhat different. Then I realized that unlike before, his eyes were open. "Wow, what are _you_ doing here?" I asked, possibly sounding a bit too enthusiastic.

"I'm on my way to a friend's house. Do you still remember Eiji?"

The Redhead! "Yeah, of course," I grinned triumphantly.

"Where are you going?" he asked, closing his eyes and looking around. "Are you here with Kinoshita-san?" (Why does everyone always ask me that? Am I like, Kumiko's _sidekick_ or something?)

"No, I'm actually on my way to visit my niece. The only problem is, this thing won't let me through." I peeked inside my backpack. "Um..." Damn! I hate my parents. I looked up sheepishly.

"Do you need any money?" he asked, reading my mind. I smiled guiltily. "Yes please, just enough for a ticket."

He whipped out a few banknotes and handed them to me. "Thank you so, so much," I said. "I promise I'll pay you back."

"When, another half-year from now?" he chuckled, zipping up his own Wilson tennis bag. He was wearing his Seigaku uniform, which consisted of a cuffed shirt and a pair of black pants. The mature outfit combined with his face reminded me of a magazine article I once read titled _Tokyo's Top Ten Elegible Bachelors_. "It's alright. You can keep it."

"Actually, I'll probably see you again pretty soon," I said, watching his expression carefully. "Guess what? I'm gonna be transferring to your school next semester."

His smile widened. "Saa, really?" I never even realized how _real_transferring to Seishun seemed, until seeing his reaction. I stood there, imagining me and Fuji exchanging "hi"s in the hallway, me and Fuji lending erasers to each other during class, me and Fuji having lunch at the beautiful courtyard that Kumiko always talked about. Those fantasies, however, stopped when he said: "So that you can be closer to Kinoshita-san?"—almost as if to spite me. His eyes showed the slightest hint of playfulness.

I, however, retaliated quickly. "No, but I'm thrilled to be in her school. My parents forced me to transfer for educational purposes. You know how parents are when it comes to academics..." And by _forced_, I meant I begged them until they angrily filed forms and made long phone calls with me grinning in the background. "...Oh, God, I didn't realize how late it's gotten. My niece is probably growing hysterical."

"I should get going, too. I hope I see you in Seigaku, Nakamura-san." He moved out of the way to let me through.

"Yeah, same here," I said. "Bye!" Waving the money in the air, I added, "And thanks!" He inserted his ticket, went to the other side of the bar, and was gone. It was as if the platform was divided into 2 parts: the Moving People side where they are all ready to go, and the Stuck People side, where I stood. I felt a strange happy sensation and tried to figure out where it came from. Oh, right. He called me Nakamura-san; I'm amazed he even remembered my last name after so long. However, his annoying sadistic smile kept me from having any more fantasies about him.

* * *

**Three months later : Third person POV**

"Was she one of your fan girls?" Echizen asked.

"No." Fuji smiled, considering the question. "Thankfully, no. But do you remember, at the movies, when Kinoshita-san brought a friend?" Fuji asked him.

Echizen blinked. "Who?"

"Eto, never mind." The image of Riku, yawning, entered his mind. "Ne, you said she looked red?"

Echizen took his cap off, examined the brim, and placed it back on his head. "From head to toe."

"I see."

Later, Fuji headed back to class. Riku's backpack was lying on her desk, but she herself wasn't present. He waited all morning but she never returned. When the lunch bell rang, he walked with Eiji to the courtyard, but stopped before meeting up with the other regulars. "I'm just going to buy a drink first," he said, and slipped away.

It took a lot of searching, but he found her. Riku was sitting with her head buried in her arms. He silently came up behind her and squatted down to match her height. Lightly, he tapped her shoulder; she looked up, but no one was there. She felt a tap on her other shoulder. "Fuji."

"What are you doing?" He placed his chin on his arms, imitating her.

"I didn't feel like going back to class," she said pointedly. He stared at her intently, gazing at her lowering brown eyes. Beneath them were black rings, maybe due to lack of sleep. Her hair was in its usual state—slightly messy and cascading over her shoulders. Riku looked pale and wan; however, even so, she was strangely beautiful.

He thought about how he hugged her—quickly, briskly, gently. There was no doubt she skipped class to avoid him, but as for the question of _why_, he wasn't sure. "We have practice today at 3:00...would you like to come with us?" he asked. "Eiji will be thrilled if you did."

"Ah, but y'see," she said sarcastically, "I'm hanging myself at 2."

"But then what will we do with all the..." he paused, "_books_ you'll be leaving behind?"

She shot him a look. "You're not very pleasant."

"Come back to class," he said abruptly. "You said your parents sent you to Seigaku for the academics, didn't they? If you don't, I'll tell the teacher where you are."

She searched his face to see if he was kidding, or actually serious. "...Hmph. Fine. I was going to go back anyway. Now don't you have some friends you need to be with?"

"You, too," Fuji insisted.

"But Kumiko's absent."

"What about the person talking to you?"

"But I hate him."

"From head to toe?"

"From head to toe, yes."

He grinned. Just like Echizen had forgotten Riku's face, Riku had also forgotten about the freshman too. "All right, I understand."

"Wait," she blurted, when he stood up to go, "uh—" Fuji turned to her. Seeing her figure sitting in the grass, he was immediately stunned into silence.

It wasn't Riku that surprised him, it was the memory. He remembered a day that was much brighter than this. A girl was sitting in the grass, looking up at him like Riku was now. She had long hair also; the girl wore a shirt that was too large for her, and her eyes were a deep burgundy color like wine. Try as he might, he couldn't picture her whole face.

Riku stared at his face searchingly. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," Fuji said, recovering from the deja vu. "What were you going to tell me?"

"Um," she said, looking flustered again, "I'm just...well I just... Thanks," she finished lamely.

Fuji smiled. What a change in character. "Sure, anytime. Ja ne."

"Don't you dare tell the teacher," she yelled at his retreating back. He simply nodded. Riku stared at him until he turned the corner and disappeared, legs and all. She continued to stare at the spot. How could he have found her? she thought. Now she regretted skipping class because a) Fuji was a sadist and he might tattle on the teacher despite her warnings, and b) skipping class was like admitting that she liked him—_which_ _she_ _did not. _So why did she think of him all the time, why can't she stop thinking of his arms tightening around her shoulders? _Maybe I am becoming mental, _she reasoned, which was an ego-comforting theory.

In Fuji's case, when he rounded the corner, the tensai stiffened with terror. Standing in front of him was Eiji and a handful of other regulars, who had seen the whole thing. Eiji's eyes formed into gigantic slits and he grinned from ear-to-ear. "So _that's _where you went," he said cautiously. "Fujiko's got a girl! And it's _Nakamura Riku!_"

Fuji sweat-dropped. "Ne, minna..."

Momo burst out, unable to control himself, "'Sure, anytime'? What a smooth-talking senpai we have!" He and Eiji exchanged amused looks. Inui, who was not one to miss any data-gathering opportunities, held a tape recorder in his hands. He mumbled something into the machine. Even Kaidoh, with his hands in his pockets, was blushing slightly.

Echizen had also been evesdropping. Toying with the empty Ponta can in his hands, a smirk creeped over his face. "Mada mada dane."

* * *

A/N: We all have a Kumiko in our lives, don't we? The kind of girl who's hyper and boy-obsessed. The kind of girl who says, "Go for it!" when you're crushing on someone. Yes, we would not exist without girls like her.

This chapter also gave me a chance to channel my memories: once, when I was thirteen, the subway turnstile spat my ticket out and wouldn't let me through. Then a man politely pointed out that it was expired, so I politely pointed out that I didn't have any cash. If there is a rather handsome Brazilian guy wearing gray sweats dwelling near you, please contact me.


End file.
